Don't Tell Belle the Christmas Tree's Dead
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: Rumple realizes something terrible has happened-his tree has died four days before Christmas. Afraid the holiday will be ruined, he goes insane trying to keep this a secret from Belle. What will happen when she finds out? A "Chocolate" verse Christmas fic. Rumbelle fluff & humor!


**Don't Tell Belle The Christmas Tree's Dead**

A "Chocolate" verse Christmas fic

 _A/N: This little fic comes before "Chocolate Effect". It technically is #10. Title is a play on an old movie "Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead". Happy holidays to all my dearies and thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope this season is merry and bright and full of hope and laughter._

The Christmas tree was dead.

Rumple knew the moment he came into the living room that something was not right when he saw the drooping branches and brown needles scattered in a swath across the carpet and the pretty white tree skirt with the gold border and the small "chip" out of the front with the blue willow design in the middle of it. Rumple had it made specially, and it was now marred by the dead needles.

 _Damn! I guess the aspirin didn't work!_ He groaned silently to himself as he surveyed the limp tree, which he noticed had lost its fresh green smell and the remaining branches were drooping and putting the ornaments they had hung so eagerly upon the branches in jeopardy of falling. The tree was also, he noted in dismay, half brown. It was dead, and now what was he going to tell Belle, who had just come home from the hospital with a new baby, and who was having her father come for Christmas for the first time ever?

Belle was nervous about hosting the holiday, since she had never done it before, much less in a new place, with a new baby, and she wanted everything to be perfect. She and Rumple had decorated before she had gone into labor and they had bought the tree just before they had gone to the Godiva store that fateful morning.

 _I knew I shouldn't have bought this tree from that drunken bum in the trailer in the grocery store parking lot! But Belle thought he was some charity case selling Christmas trees to make an extra buck, and because she was pregnant I humored her and now look what I got! A tree that's dead before Christmas day!_

He went to get a dustpan and broom to sweep up the needles, wondering what he was going to say, thinking that maybe he wouldn't need to say anything and risk her getting upset if he could just . . .hide the fact the tree was dead for four days.

He thought about the "patented formula" recipe he'd found online, which was supposed to extend the life of your tree, and feared maybe it had done just the opposite.

And with Christmas coming in three days he didn't have time to go out and get another tree, even if there were still trees to be had. He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

Luckily, Belle was out for a walk with Carina, so he had time to figure out how to camoflage a dead Christmas tree. The first thing he thought of was making sure Belle didn't notice the change in the color. If his magic had worked as it used to back in Storybrooke, he would have found that an easy task. But here magic worked differently, and right now he needed to conserve his in case the baby got sick or something. Even during the holidays, there was some unrest in the city, especially now after all the shootings of police officers and two blocks from his shop there had been a hold up, and of course there was the terrorist attacks in San Bernadino.

So he would have to solve this the old fashioned way—with his wits.

 _Now what could cover up brown needles?_ He pondered. _Ah ha! Paint!_

And he knew just who to go to and get some.

Ten minutes later he was standing in Bae's art studio and asking his son if he had any evergreen spray paint.

"You're lucky you caught me before I went out to the art exhibit at the school, Papa," his son said. He was an art professor. "What do you need green spray paint for?"

"Umm . . .just some touch up work in the hallway," Rumple lied glibly. "You know the house was old when I bought it, and it could use a new coat of paint there." Luckily his entry way leading to the kitchen had green walls.

Bae handed him the large can of paint with the spray nozzle. "Here, Papa. This should be enough. I'll see you later."

Rumple took the can, and put it in the plastic bag Bae gave him.

"Just remember, be careful about the baby, you might want to keep her and Belle out of the house for a few hours to let the paint dry," Bae warned.

"Thanks, I'll take them to lunch somewhere," Rumple agreed.

Now he had to get home to spray paint the tree.

 **Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple examined the tree critically. It looked better than it had been, but now he was worried about the paint smell and opened all the windows. Then he found the Glade pine air freshener he'd bought on sale at the pharmacy and sprayed it copiously all over the tree, after removing the ornaments. Luckily the paint was quick drying, so after fifteen minutes he could put the ornaments back on.

The strong smell mingled with the paint nearly made him gag, but he thought at least it might prevent Belle from noticing when she came home. A few moments later, he thought he would meet her down the block and suggest lunch to her. He figured by the time they were done with lunch, with all the holiday traffic, the smell would hardly be noticeable, except for the Glade pine scent.

He quickly pulled on his coat, grabbed the "emergency diaper bag" from the side of the couch, and quickly locked up the house. Then he texted Belle on his phone, asking where she was and explaining his lunch idea.

Belle wanted to go to an Italian restaurant that was downtown, so Rumple met her at the brownstone, put the stroller in the foyer, and then they hailed a cab. Carina was asleep in the infant seat.

Lunch took about two hours, since afterwards, Belle wanted to feed the baby again and see the tree at Rockerfeller center. Rumple happily obliged her, and while they were window shopping, he saw an ad in the Macy's window that made him pause.

 **Brand New This Holiday Season!**

 _The ElectroLux Magic Vacuum!_

 _Compact, light, and can pick up anything_

 _Including metal, nails, glass and_

 _Also pet dander. Has hypoallergenic filters and_

 _A replaceable bag system. Get the latest_

 _In power and cleaning!_

 _Only $400!_

 _On sale for $250!_

He gazed at the sign, and then the model in the window, which was a small machine shaped almost like a purple bullet. It had various brushes and attachments as well.

"Belle, I think we should get that vacuum. It's much easier to use and can even clean up spills," Rumple said eagerly. It would also, he thought, be able to pick up the dead pine needles from the tree and he would be able to hide the evidence by throwing the sealed bag away. It was perfect.

"All right, Rumple," she agreed. "Though I've never seen you this excited over a household item before."

He laughed, a little guiltily, then gave her a sheepish little boy smile. "I guess I'm becoming domesticated, dearie."

Then he led the way into the store.

Ten minutes later they emerged onto the sidewalk, with a bag containing the Magic vacuum.

Rumple felt things were definitely looking up.

It took them forty-five minutes to get home due to the holiday traffic, but that didn't bother him for once.

When they entered the house, Belle sniffed and said, "I just love the smell of fresh evergreen, don't you, Rumple? I'm so glad we got a live Christmas tree."

Rumple just nodded, unpacking the vacuum. _That's the smell of Glade, dearie! But whatever floats your boat._

He put the vacuum into the hall closet.

Then he sniffed the air experimentally as he went to lay a fire in the fireplace. He couldn't smell the paint anymore, and he made haste to light a fire of applewood logs and cinnamon scented pinecones.

Then he shut the windows, since it was growing chilly.

 **Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, Rumple discovered to his dismay that despite his paint job, the tree still was drooping and looking pathetic, especially under the weight of the ornaments and lights.

Belle was sitting on the couch in the den and watching _A Christmas Carol_ , while Rumple was in the living room, tidying up from the marathon of popcorn and cranberries he and Belle had strung to drape over the railings of their balcony and the small tree in their miniscule backyard. The baby was in her swing, gurgling and waving her hands.

As he scooped up the empty wine glasses and plates which had contained Christmas cookies Belle and he had baked, there came a sudden tinkling sound and an ornament suddenly fell off the leaning branch and smashed onto the floor.

Rumple gasped in alarm and saw to his horror a blown glass china shepherdess had shattered.

"Rumple, what was that?"

"What was what, dearie?"

"I thought I heard a noise . .. like something fell." Belle said, coming into the living room.

"Oh, it was nothing. Carina just threw her rattle," he giggled nervously and hid the fallen ornament with his foot

"There it is again!" Belle looked around.

In her swing, Carina began to cry hungrily.

Belle quit searching for the source of the noise and went to pick up her wailing daughter, cooing to her. "Okay, baby, Mama's gonna feed you." She retreated back into the den to nurse the baby and watch Ebeneezer Scrooge.

Rumple breathed a sigh of relief. _Saved by my little dearie_!

As he bent to hide the fallen ornament in his pocket, there came the sound of three more smashing on the ground.

"Rumple? I just heard . . ." Belle called from the couch.

"Don't worry, dearie. I just need to get the vacuum . . .I dropped a plate with some cookies on the floor . . ."

As Rumple hurried to get the new vacuum a line from _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ popped into his head . . . _he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick . . .oh dearie dearie dear . . .!_

"Your papa's acting a bit strange sweetie," Belle mused. "And he's usually not so clumsy and neither are you..."

She could hear the vacuum running and while he was running it across the carpet it made the strangest sounds as if he'd picked up something he shouldn't have.

"Rumple...what did you just run over?"

"Nothing? Why do you ask?"

"You really shouldn't pick up large pieces of glass with the vacuum. You could ruin it," she pointed out.

 _Damn!_ he thought.

"Try to sweep the larger pieces up with the broom and use the vacuum on the small ones...and make sure you empty it out."

"Belle, dearie, I know how to run a vacuum properly!" he cried. "It's supposed to be an industrial strength machine."

"Well there's no need to get testy!"

"I wasn't getting...never mind," he mumbled. _Now how are you going to talk your way out of this one, dearie?_

Just then the TV began to play the old carol _O Christmas Tree._ Mr. Gold wanted to scream as the choir warbled delightedly _"O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches!"_

He rolled his eyes. _Yeah right! I've seen lovelier branches on skeletal trees in the Nightmare Forest!_ He recalled a song he had heard blaring from speakers as he walked back from Bae's apartment, and some of the lyrics were stuck in his head . . . " _shopping around for a Christmas tree . . .what a crappy holiday . . .you will get that ornamental feeling every year, when you find a tree that looks real jolly, when you turn it round it's brown as Charlie's . . ."_

That song might have been composed with this sorry excuse for a decoration in mind, he snorted.

He quickly finished vacuuming up the incriminating broken ornaments, feeling like a murderer trying to cover up evidence of his crime . . .and in a way he had murdered the Christmas tree by accident.

 _Honestly, who ever thought of this ridiculous tradition anyway? Bringing live horticulture into a house!_ He went to empty out the bag replacing it with a new one, and singing under his breath his own version of the Christmas tree carol.

"O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, you're dead and decomposing! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, your branches are bare and falling down now! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how pathetic you are leaning, dropping needles on the carpet, O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, you weren't worth a hundred bucks, and now you've made this holiday suck! O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, if Belle finds out you're done for, I'm so f-cked . . ."

While Belle was putting Carina down for a nap she could hear her husband singing Christmas songs only they weren't the versions she enjoyed and he still seemed to be in a foul mood but for the life of her she couldn't fathom why.

"The first thing about Christmas that's such a pain to me...is finding a Christmas tree!"

Or killing one, he thought.

"Rumple, why are you being a grinch?"

"A what?"

"A grinch. Remember that cartoon Rhee watches?"

"I'm not being a grinch."

"Yes, you are, now stop it."

He didn't even want to think about what she would be like once she found out the tree she'd taken so much time and care to decorate was a disaster and the glass ornaments she loved so much were now in pieces in the trash. But...surely there were some plastic ones he could find. Stores were always coming out with clever little items to make life much easier around the holidays.

And if he could get away with it, the Christmas corpse could be replaced with a new tree.

He smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, darling."

"I'm going to do a little Christmas shopping. Do you want me to take Carina or leave her here with you?" Belle asked him.

"I thought you were done."

"No...I still have a few things to pick up."

"You can leave her with me. We'll find something to do."

And that something was giving his son a call and hoping Bae could rearrange his schedule to help his father do a bit of bait and switch, grateful his daughter was not old enough to tattle on him yet.

He was also very lucky that Belle had been so busy with decorating the house, taking care of the baby, and baking cookies and planning the dinner menu for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with him that she hadn't really taken a good look at the tree since they'd decorated it a week ago. And Rumple planned to keep it that way.

He waited an hour after Belle left before calling his son. Fortunately Bae didn't have a class until later on that afternoon. As soon as Rumple told his son his scheme, Bae burst into laughter. "Umm, Papa...you know we're gonna have a helluva time trying to find a Christmas tree now, right, especially a live one?"

"We're going to look anyway but just in case I'm picking up two more cans of that paint at the hardware store."

"And the ornaments that broke?"

"They were colored glass balls. Doesn't that store you go to sell them?"

"The Dollar Tree? Yeah but if one of 'em falls off the tree when she's looking she's gonna find out you pulled the switcheroo on her."

"Then let's hope we find a tree so that she doesn't find out."

Bae shook his head. His father's hairbrained schemes worked most of the time but he had a feeling this would _not_ be one of those times.

First they went to the Dollar Tree, and bought some plastic colored ornaments to replace the glass ones that had broken. Carina slept while the made that stop and also the one for more cans of green spray paint.

"She's a really good baby, Papa," Bae observed as they wheeled her in the stroller. "I remember Sorcha and I never got enough sleep when Rhee was this age."

"Oh she doesn't sleep the night, not yet. But she does enjoy her naps," Rumple told him, pleased. "Speaking of sleeping, you were like your daughter, awake half the night and at all hours. Milah used to turn over and go back to sleep sometimes, so I was the one stuck getting up and feeding you goat's milk from our goat, Belinda."

Bae gave him a rueful grin. "I'm afraid I'm still a night owl."

"Well, at least you can get your own midnight snacks," his father teased.

They returned to the parking lot on South and Broad, where the NYC Fire Department had advertized Christmas trees in the paper. But all that were left were tiny specimens, and they would never measure up to the six foot one sitting in the Gold's living room.

Rumple groaned. "Great! Fifteen minutes schlepping around and we still haven't found a thing!"

"Papa, I told you, three days before Christmas, we aren't gonna be able to replace your tree with a decent live one." His son pointed out annoyingly. "Not with Mama's standards."

Rumple got a mule stubborn look on his face. "We have to keep trying. What about the other ad we saw? For the NYC PD? Let's check that one out."

Bae heaved a sigh. "O-o-kay, Papa. But remember, we've only got another hour before I need to go pick up Rhee at the bus stop."

"Right. Let's move it!" Rumple went and hailed a cab, while Bae waited on the sidewalk with Carina. By now the former spinner was an expert at doing so, like a true New Yorker.

Sadly, however, all their efforts were in vain. The Christmas trees in the NY PD lot were almost all gone, and those that remained were as small as the Charlie Brown Christmas tree and almost as bare.

After going down the last row, and finding nothing, even Rumple was forced to admit defeat.

"Well, we tried," he muttered, thinking if they were still in Storybrooke he could go out into the woods and chop one down the oldfashioned way. "Too bad we couldn't go to the park and cut one down."

Bae goggled. "No way, Papa! The trees there are like in a preserve. You don't wanna spend Christmas in jail, now do you?"

Rumple thought once Belle found out the Christmas tree was dead he might as well be in jail.

Bae patted him on the shoulder and said consolingly, "Hey, Papa. Don't sweat it. Christmas is the season of love, hope, and forgiveness. Belle will forgive you . . .eventually."

"Oh thanks, Bae!" his father snorted. He scowled at the empty lot. "I never would have bought a live tree if I knew they died before Christmas Day!"

"That's why Rhee and I only have a tiny artificial one on the table," Bae told him. "Plus the apartment isn't big enough to have a live tree and I'm always worried the lights might catch the tree on fire and with my studio the whole place would burn down."

Rumple looked alarmed. "What? What do you mean the lights could catch the tree on fire? I didn't think they got hot enough for that."

"Well, usually it wouldn't be a problem, if the tree were well watered and green. But a dead one—like yours—and you could have a fire if you're not careful 'cause nothing burns like a dead pine tree. Remember I used to go and collect dead pine tree branches to start a fire back in our cottage?"

"Oh damn!" Rumple swore. "C'mon, we'd better get home. I think I forgot to turn the lights off on it. That's _all_ we need! A roasty toasty Christmas!"

They quickly hailed a cab back to the brownstone, and Rumple prayed the tree wasn't sending up smoke signals.

Luckily the tree's lights had been off, and Rumple quickly replaced all the broken ornaments with the Dollar Tree ones. You really couldn't tell they were cheap plastic . . .from a distance. He also added some Miracle Gro to the water in the tree base . . .though it really would be a miracle if anything happened.

Then he spent the rest of the time till Belle came home playing with Carina, and ordering some Chinese takeout from Lin's Garden for dinner.

He also sprayed some more Glade around the tree and touched up some spots with the paint using a tiny brush Bae had lent him.

"There! Good as . . . well almost new," he said to Carina in her swing. "I think this will work, don't you?"

His baby daughter gave him a pointed Look that said plain as day _Really, Papa dearie?_

Belle arrived home tired from fighting the last minute shoppers but happy that she had gotten what she wanted . . .since it was a last minute gift. But she knew her husband would love it.

She sniffed the air as she walked in the door. "Mmm . . .do I smell Chinese?"

"You do, dearie. I thought you might be tired when you got home, so I took the liberty of ordering some roast pork egg foo young and won ton soup and egg rolls from Lin's," Rumple said as he set the table and poured iced tea into their glasses.

"Rumple, you're such a sweetheart," his wife cooed and hugged him.

He blushed, thinking she wouldn't be so full of praise if she knew what he'd been doing while she was gone. "No, you are," he corrected, hugging her back. "Did you get whatever you were looking for?"

"I did. And he's gonna love it," she predicted.

Rumple assumed it was a gift for Moe. Or Bae. "Let's eat before it gets cold."

"Okay. Where's the baby?"

"In her swing. Watching My Little Pony," her husband answered, he had turned on the TV for Carina when the Chinese had arrived.

He had already portioned out the egg foo young and rice, and the soup was in bowls. They sat down and toasted each other with their iced teas.

"Here's to a happy first holiday season in our new home," Belle said.

"With our new family," Rumple added, and they clinked glasses and drank.

He'd be singing the hallelujah chorus right now if it weren't for that piece of dead greenery in the living room, he thought resentfully. Then he took a spoonful of won ton soup and thought he'd make this season merry and bright if he had to Fed Ex a tree from Alaska.

Belle smiled at him over her Chinese, thinking how lucky she was to have her family around her this holiday season and she hoped Rumple would love this last minute gift she had bought. She thought it would look lovely either on the counter of his antique store or on his desk at home.

It was a Venetian glass photo cube and she had the perfect photographs she would include in it. One of them was their wedding photograph, a recent family Christmas photograph and an old photograph Bae had of him, Sorcha and Rhee. She knew there were so many others that Rumple would like but those were his favorites and kept in the leather bound album in his curio cabinet. She would have to wait until he was busy to take the photographs out and place them in the cube before she wrapped it.

 _The next day:_

Every minute that passed made the tree in living room look even more dead no matter how many cans of green paint they used or inexpensive ornaments. Plus there was still the risk of the damned thing catching fire and that would certainly hide the evidence that it was already in a state of decay but God only knew what other destruction it would cause. He wasn't crazy enough to intentionally leave the lights on so that the damn thing would burn and he would be done with it.

"Are Rhee and Bae coming over this evening?" Belle asked him.

"Hmmm...what?"

"Rumple, you've been a bit distracted lately. Is something wrong?"

"What...no of course not. I'm just...thinking."

"You know we can talk about it..."

Talk about the fact that our Christmas may be ruined by this poor excuse of a pine? I think not. Ahh...if only Fed Ex would ship trees.

"Belle, sweetheart, I'm fine, really. Now what would you like for dinner this evening?"

She smiled. "Surprise me."

Most of the time they cooked together but this time he wanted to do all the cooking himself since it would help take his mind off the Christmas tree fiasco. He decided to make stuffed shells, one of Belle's favorite dishes and Bae's. With Rumple distracted in the kitchen, Belle seized the opportunity to remove the photographs she wanted from the album and placed them in the cube. Carina smiled from her swing and held out her hands for it.

"No, sweetie, this is for Papa," she whispered. Her daughter gave her one of her furious looks. "Now, now, don't get upset. You can see it when Papa opens it, okay?"

Carina seemed to be appeased for the moment. Once she wrapped the gift, Belle set it beside some of the other gifts that had already been wrapped.

"We're here!" she heard Rhee call out.

Belle gave her granddaughter a hug. "Belle, where's Papa?" Bae asked her.

"In here!" they heard Rumple call out from the kitchen.

Bae studied the tree for a few minutes, it didn't look half bad with the fresh coat of paint. He went into the kitchen.

"So far so good, Papa. Any more ornaments fall off?"

"No." He breathed a sigh of relief. But that thing...if it lives that long is coming down after the New Year."

In the meantime they were going to need more spray paint.

Rhee took a wrapped package out of her backpack. "Where do I put Grandpa's present?"

"Oh you can put it right under the tree, honey."

"Dinner's ready," Rumple announced when he walked into the living room with Bae as Rhee was adding his present to the growing pile under the tree, her arm accidentally striking one of the branches and knocking the ornaments off of them. Belle gasped, expecting to hear and see them shatter. They simply dropped onto the floor. Rhee frowned.

"Grandpa, why does the tree look like it's dying?" she asked.

"Hey, the tree looks f..." Belle trailed off when she reached out and touched one of the branches only to have it break off, her fingers stained with still drying paint. "Rumple, why is there paint on the tree?"

 _Think up a lie and think it up quick!_

But for once his facile brain failed him.

So Bae chimed in with, "It was an experiment, Belle. I needed to see how well this paint adhered to a living thing, so I asked Papa if I could spray some on the tree."

Belle gave him a sharp look. "Baelfire, that is the worst excuse I have ever heard. Whatever is going on here, we are going to discuss it after dinner, Rumplestiltskin!"

"Yes, dearie," Rumple acquiesced then he handed her a towel to wipe the paint from her hand. He was doomed.

He thought he saw a couch looming in his future.

Like the one in his office in his shop.

He was so certain that his Christmas was going to be one best forgotten this year that he barely touched his dinner, pushing the stuffed shell about on his plate instead of actually eating it. But he drank the glass of red Moscato he'd poured, figuring he'd need some comfort.

Bae and Rhee offered to do the dishes and watch Carina in her infant seat while Belle and Rumple talked.

Rhee looked concerned. "Is Grandpa in trouble? Why is the tree dying?"

"Nah . . . he just . . . kinda didn't want to tell your grandma the tree was dying. Didn't want to ruin her holiday." Bae explained as he rinsed the plates. He set Rumple's aside, figuring he might eat it later.

"Why's it dying?"

"Sometimes they do . . . if they've been cut too soon and kept too long. I think that's what happened with this one," Bae surmised.

"Are they gonna fight over it?"

"Swanmay, no, they won't. Relax. They're just going to discuss it," Bae told her calmly, and hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a mountain out of a molehill. Domestic disturbances always bothered him, since he'd grown up with Milah and Rumple fighting all the time.

Inside the living room, Belle gazed at the tree, which she now noticed had several new decorations—ones she hadn't bought or put on the tree—and she gave her guilty-as-hell husband a scowl. "Rumplestiltskin, what happened to the beautiful blown Venetian glass balls I put on the tree?"

"They broke," he admitted. "They fell off the tree and broke."

"So that was what I heard breaking? Not a plate?"

"No . . .I didn't want to tell you," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

"Rumple, if you knocked some ornaments off the tree, it's not the end of the world," she began exasperatedly.

"I didn't knock them off," he protested. "I told you—they fell."

She frowned. "How?"

"Because the branches broke."

"Rumple, what happened to the tree? It was fine yesterday."

"Actually no it wasn't. You just thought it was," he sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"I borrowed some green paint from Bae and spraypainted the tree . . .and I bought the vacuum to pick up all the dead needles . . . so you wouldn't find out the tree is dead. Or will be shortly."

Belle gaped at him. "Our Christmas tree is _dead_?"

"I'm afraid so, dearie. I noticed it was dying two days ago . . . and I didn't want to ruin your holiday by saying something. I know how much you wanted this Christmas to be perfect, and you went through so much trouble to decorate the tree and all, and you were so proud of it."

"So you decided to . . .disguise it?"

"Yes. I . . .I tried to revive it . . .but I'm afraid all the things I tried failed and I think maybe I killed it . . .and then Bae and I tried to get a new tree but no one has a tree this size anywhere in New York." He looked totally wretched. "I'm sorry . . . now Christmas is ruined because of me . . . and this dead Christmas tree."

Belle shook her head. "Darling, do you honestly think a decorated tree is what makes a perfect Christmas? My perfect Christmas is all of us being together with a roof over our heads, warm clothes to wear and good food."

"But...I made you think..."

"The tree may be dead but we still have each other and that's what matters most," she insisted.

"I feel terrible for deceiving you."

"Rumple, I wouldn't be angry with you for deceiving me over this. Now if you were having an affair I'm afraid you'd have to start running because I would unleash a Dark One worthy wrath on you...then make you skin the tart I hunted for her pelt."

He giggled. "And I suppose that one wouldn't be a quip, eh sweetheart?"

" No, it wouldn't."

"You'll never have to worry about that, darling. Because all I want for Christmas is you."

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

He kissed her back fervently. "I'm sorry I killed the Christmas tree."

"Sweetheart, I don't think you killed it. It was already dying."

She laughed. "But I have to say you had some very interesting ways of hiding it from me."

"But now we have a dead tree . . .and Moe's coming for Christmas," Rumple sighed.

"You know Christmas doesn't come from a store, Rumple," Belle began, reciting the line from How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

"Christmas comes from the heart . . . it's the season of hope and love and forgiveness. It's about spending time with your family and being together and celebrating the birth of a baby who made peace between mankind the most important thing on earth, and love the greatest magic of all."

"I suppose then I ought to count my blessings."

"Not just count them, Rumple. Live with them. For you are MY blessing, and always will be."

She traced his jaw and continued, "You are the greatest gift I shall ever receive and always will be. I love you, Mr. Gold. Silly schemes, giggle and all."

He was profoundly touched then and whispered, "And I love you, Belle. My flicker of light. My heart."

They kissed again, there by the tree, sealing their promises in the age old fashion . . .a kiss of such purity, such passion, that it would make angels weep . . .until a small voice said, "You know, if you keep doing that much longer you're gonna pass out from lack of oxygen. And Dad can't pick you up off the floor by himself."

They drew apart as if stabbed with red hot pokers.

"Rhiannon! Umm . . ." Rumple stammered.

"We were just . ..following tradition," Belle said lamely. "And kissing under the Christmas tree."

"That's the mistletoe, Grammy," Rhee rolled her eyes. "And I wasn't born yesterday. I know where babies come from."

"Rhee, please!" Bae commented, smirking. "You're gonna give your grandpa another heart attack."

"What? I do, ya know."

"Baelfire! What have you been teaching the lass?" Rumple demanded of his son.

"Nothing, Papa. They learn all of that in school," he protested.

Rumple goggled. "School! What the heck kind of school is this?"

"All the schools here teach sex ed."

Rumple looked horrified. "My God!"

"Cause we don't live in the Dark Ages, Grandpa, and we gotta know what to expect," his granddaughter put in cheekily.

"Expect? You can know what to expect when you get married," he snorted.

"Grandpa, don't be so medieval," Rhee grinned, her smile echoing his. "Just because I know what doesn't mean I want to. I haven't even held hands with a guy yet. Or went out on a date."

"A d-date?!" Rumple sputtered.

"Relax, Papa. Rhee's not allowed to date before she's fifteen."

"But what if a boy wants to go the movies?"

"Then I take you," Bae interjected. "It's not a date if your dad's with you."

"Yeah and you'd probably be breathing down our necks every second!"

"Got that right, swanmay," her dad said, unrepentant.

Then he started laughing at Rumple's poleaxed expression.

"Oh, Papa! Just wait till your little dearie starts noticing boys."

Rumple scowled. "That's not gonna happen. I'm sending her away to convent school!"

Rhee snorted. "I know a few convent school girls who aren't so innocent," Rhee joked.

"W-what?" Rumple looked like he was going to pass out.

"Breathe, Papa," Bae told him, inbetween snickers.

"Well...they got caught smoking...doing things with boys..."

"What things?" her stunned grandfather repeated. Then he muttered, "Never mind, I don't wanna know. I'll just lock her in the basement." He amended.

Belle started giggling. "Oh, Rumple! You will not!"

"Fine! Then I'll turn all the boys into pigs!"

"Like Circe in the Odyssey? That was a good book," Rhee remarked.

"Oh, you've read that already, honey?" Belle was astonished.

"The kids version, yeah. I wanna learn ancient Greek so I can read it in the original when I'm older," she told her grandma.

"And where I'm gonna find a tutor who knows ancient Greek is a mystery to me," Bae sighed.

"You will, Dad. Just look in the Yellow Pages," Rhee said blithely. "You can find anything in New York."

"Or I could just teach you a language spell, dearie," Rumple said slyly.

"There's a spell that'll teach me how to speak ancient Greek?" Rhee cried.

"And any other language you want to know. But . . .you'll have to make a deal with me." His eyes twinkled.

"I'm listening."

"You have to promise me no dating till you're sixteen. And any boy who wants to date you has to meet me first."

"Ummm...okay...but if you don't like him, are you gonna turn him into a pig?"

"Maybe," he grunted.

Belle poked him.

"Only if he hurts you," Rumple amended.

"You gonna make him run a gauntlet too?" Bae joked.

"No, but I am gonna make sure no lowlife scum dates my granddaughter!" Rumple returned spiritedly.

"Papa, that isn't gonna happen. If he makes it past you, there's still me," Bae put in." And the first time he lays a finger on her inappropriately, I'll take him for a swim in the Hudson."

Rhee rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'd be better off not dating at all."

Belle hugged her. "Honey, don't listen to them. They're just being overprotective ogres . . .because they love you."

"Belle! I am not an ogre!" Rumple objected.

"Really, dearie?" she raised an eyebrow. Then she turned to Rhee and said, "Don't worry. Once he realizes that the guy you date is safe, he'll turn into a teddy bear."

"Belle!"

"It's the truth," she insisted.

"Yeah the Godfather bear," Bae added, grinning.

"Bae!"

Rhee rolled up her sleeves and decided to change the subject. "Well, we can't have a dead Christmas tree. It's a fire hazard." Then she touched the trunk and called upon her powers to heal it.

Light sparkled upon the tree and then the paint peeled away and new greenery grew in place of the old.

"There! It's all better."

"Now why didn't you do that before, dearie?" asked her astonished grandfather.

"Umm . . . you didn't ask."

"Imp!" he mock-growled and then pulled her into a hug and tickled her till she collapsed with laughter.

Carina woke up then and squalled angrily at being left out.

"Uh oh!" Bae groaned. "She'll turn us all into jumbo Godivas now."

"C'mere, sweetie," Belle cooed and picked up her daughter. "Do you want to play Tickle Monster?"

She tickled her daughter's tummy and made her squeal with laughter.

"You're Mama's little chocoholic, aren't you?" She tickled her some more, and soon the baby's sweet laughter filled the room.

Bae smiled and thought this was how it should be-a family during the holidays, with merriment and laughter and joy. Things that were so precious and couldn't be bought, only cherished.


End file.
